You Own Him

When you snug­gle closer
and purr in your sleep,
you are his kitten

When you kneel between his legs
grace­fully accept­ing the band around your throat,
you are his girl

When you squirm across his lap,
your tush rosy red and tin­gling with inti­macy,
you are his brat

When you rub your­self all over him
leav­ing liq­uid pas­sion in your trail,
you are his slut

When you devour him deeply, pleas­ing him,
solely there for his enter­tain­ment,
you are his whore

When you growl and strain against your leash,
hump­ing his leg for release,
you are his bitch

When you sur­ren­der to his strength, his power,
when you sac­ri­fice your body on the altar of his desire,
you are his prey

When you stay still, quiv­er­ing, unspeak­ing,
your only pur­pose to be used, to be mounted,
you are his female

And still…

When you melt into his arms
and lean your head against his chest
and whis­per quietly,

“I am yours”

At that moment,
you own him.